


The Burden of an Angel

by markelsparks



Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: Angst, Gen, I'm only kinda sorry, super duper angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:01:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6389341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markelsparks/pseuds/markelsparks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I had always hoped beyond hope that Lloyd would be spared the fate that I am destined to live. But the moment I saw his wings, I knew that I had doomed my son by bringing him into this world."<br/>Post-game drabble. Kratos's p.o.v. as he watches Lloyd spiral downward after his exphere activates and he adjusts to becoming an angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Burden of an Angel

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been swimming in my head for a super long time but I've never been able to figure out the best way to put it into words. Figured Kratos could do it best. Thanks man.

I had always hoped beyond hope that Lloyd would be spared the fate that I am destined to live. But the moment I saw his wings, I knew that I had doomed my son by bringing him into this world.

He hid it so well, though there was no doubt in my mind he understood completely what losing his humanity would mean.

It was so subtle at first, so minimal that the changes were likely unnoticed by those even closest to him, though they knew what to expect as his transformation progressed.

As time went on and the changes began to set, it had become nearly impossible his friends to brush it aside any longer. As his senses heightened, his appetite and need for sleep diminished.

But what seemed to impact them all most was he had stopped aging. Though years had passed, he looked not a single day older than when the Chosen’s group had begun their journey. 

Days passed in seconds, years in minutes, centuries in mere days. 

As he was forced to watch his friends grow old and pass on, I watched his smile weaken, his optimism fade, the fire in his eyes die. 

I can no longer remember the sound of his laughter.

I doubt she can ever forgive me.


End file.
